The boys now were well along the path to the Sodden home. It was situated far down in a grove, to which led a path through the hemlock trees. These trees were heavy with the snow that they seemed to love, for other sorts of foliage had days before shed the fall that had so gently stolen upon them—like a caress from a white world of love.
“My, it is dark!” demurred Mabel, again.
“Mabel Blake!” accused Dorothy. “I do believe you are a coward!”
It was lonely along the way. Everyone being busy with Christmas at home, left the roads deserted.
“What do you suppose they are going in there for?” Mabel finally whispered.
“We will have to wait and find out,” replied Dorothy. “When one starts out spying on boys she must be prepared for all sorts of surprises.”
“Oh, there comes Gus! Look!” Mabel pointed to a figure making tracks through the snow along the path.
“And—there are the others. It did not take them long to make up. They are—Christmas—Imps. Such make-ups!” Dorothy finished, as she beheld the boys, in something that might have been taken, or mistaken, for stray circus baggage.
Even in their disguise it was easy to recognize the boys. Ned wore a kimono—bright red. On his head was the tall sort of cap that clowns and the old-fashioned school dunce wore. Nat was “cute” in somebody’s short skirt and a shorter jacket. He wore also a worsted cap that was really, in the dim light, almost becoming. Ted matched up Nat, the inference being that they were to be Christmas attendants on Santa Claus.
The girls stepped safely behind the hedge as the procession passed. The boys seemed too involved in their purpose to talk.